As You Like It
by Sadistic Shadow
Summary: Now that Bill's back in England, he wants a flat of his own. After much grumping, Molly accepts this. However, careful deliberation lands her an idea which will certainly put her mind at ease. So, with Arthur's permission... she hires a maid. [BillxFleur]
1. Chapter 1

Molly Weasley had just about gone spare. The Burrow, always being a perfect model of good housekeeping despite its shabby exterior, was in a state of total disarray. Earlier that day, she'd sent Fred and George outdoors to de-gnome the garden. Mischievous bunglers that they were, they'd left the screen door wide open. The kindly, red-haired matriarch had been resting her weary bones when she'd been knocked out of her chair by a herd of gnarled little men in pointy hats. Needless to say she hadn't been very pleased.

They'd torn through the house faster than she and the twins could remove them, upturning everything in their path. It hadn't been until her two youngest children had returned home that they'd finally been able to expel the last of the creaturesthough Ginny swore up and down that one could still be found in her room, under her bed, giggling away like a naughty schoolboy. Unfortunately for her, none of her siblings quite had the energy needed to climb the stairs at the time being, so she would just have to wait until her father got home. Though who knew what her room would look like by then.

But Ginny's savior came not in the form of Arthur Weasley, but in the form of her brother, Bill. Bill stepped in the front door, intent on heading into the kitchen for a nice cup of afternoon tea, when he stopped cold. Wide-eyed, he surveyed his surroundings with muted disbelief.

Every last picture was tilted at some odd angle or other, and most of the rugs lay crumpled in some random corner. The extra logs stacked by the fireplace were scattered all around the living room, and there were sooty little footprints all around the house, even, strangely enough, up and down the sides of the walls. More peculiar still was the fact that both his pillow and a great many of his possessions lay smoldering at his feetand was that a fork sticking out of his mother's unusually messy hair?

Bill promptly shut his mouth, which had been hanging wide open until then, and slowly inched towards his disheveled family. "What happened here?" He finally croaked, floundering for words like a goldfish. He found it rather difficult to speak properly after all the air had been sucked from his lungs just moments before. "Burglars?"

"No," Ron answered, sounding somewhat glum. His favorite poster of the Chudley Cannons had been ripped right off his wall by those horrid little beasts, and torn to shreds right before his eyes. Never mind that a mere flick of the wand could easily repair his beloved piece of memorabilia. The act had been total sacrilege, and he felt rather obligated to mourn such a serious breach of ethics. Either that or he feared the twins would hide the strips before he could get around to fixing them. "Garden gnomes."

"Garden gnomes!" Bill blinked, clearly not having been expecting _that_ explanation. "Well, I'll be…"

Mrs. Weasley seemed to have snapped out of her daze at last. Looking about at the damage inflicted on her lovely home, it was all she could do not to scream. Instead, she sighed. "Bill," She began, voice absent of its usual conviction. "Take Ginny upstairs, will you? She reckons there's still one in her room. Ronald, I want you to restack those logs for me. Fred, George? You two… Just stay out of my hair." With those words, she began the painstaking process of cleaning up the mess. Even with her wand, it still took ages. She was still finishing up when her husband arrived home.

Arthur knew better than to ask what manner of crazy things had occurred in his absence. Instead, he withdrew his wand from his billowing sleeves and helped his wife clear up the last traces of the mess.

Bill scratched his cheek as he watched his parents quietly converse off to the side of the room. From the heated glares his mother kept sending his twin brothers, it was clear that she hadn't forgotten who was to blame for the gnome's indiscretion. Every now and then, his father would frown, as if receiving a particularly incriminating piece of evidence. After awhile, his mother whisked off towards the kitchen, apparently having been appeased.

Arthur finally got around to removing his hat, which had been sitting rather funnily atop his head for the past few minutes. "Boys," He unknowingly echoed his wife's earlier sigh. "That was very irresponsible of you." And that was all he said on the matter, choosing to head upstairs to drop off his things and change out of his work clothes.

Fred and George had the decency to look ashamed, and Bill had no idea where they got off to after they exchanged glances and shuffled out of sight, leaving him alone in the living room.

Bill plopped down on the couch, burying his face in his hands, massaging his temples, which seemed to have begun pounding the moment he'd arrived home. He was in a bit of a difficult position as of now: between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

It'd been scarcely three weeks since he'd returned from Egypt. His mother had not yet realized that he'd only been planning on crashing at the Burrow for a little while. She appeared as if under the impression that his visit was going to be a little more long-term. Read: permanent.

He'd come home that day intending to tell her that he'd already found a small flat just outside of London. But now, breaking the news after she'd had such a stressful afternoon seemed nothing short of cruel. He had to let her know, though, and soon, at that. The flat was a prime piece of real estate, and it wouldn't be available anymore if he waited around much longer. Seeing as how he couldn't just move out without letting her know beforehand…

He moaned in face of his plight, reluctantly pulling himself up off the couch to answer to the call of dinner. "Wait," He murmured, mahogany orbs narrowing in thought. Dinner! Why, he could break the news then, in neutral company! And so he strolled into the kitchen and sat down at the table with the rest of his family, feeling a little more sure of himself.

The twins were sitting at the far end of the table, he noticed. This was probably a wise move, considering their mother's ire was directed solely at them. Every now and then, the two of them would shoot each other woeful glances, as if they were misunderstood martyrs in some tragic tale. Ron was unusually quiet as well, and kept pushing his food around his plate, making dejected little noises each and every time he would spear one of his carrots, their color perhaps reminding him of what had been ruined. Even Ginny looked on edge, nearly grimacing as she cast her gaze around the table at each of them in turn.

"Err… Mum?" He finally saw his chance, once his father, desperate to keep things civil between them all, had finished telling them all about his day.

"Yes, dear?" Mrs. Weasley regarded her eldest son fondly, shooting him a decidedly indulgent smile. "Did you want another cutlet?"

"Sure, that'd be nice," He agreed readily enough, allowing her to plunk down the piece of meat on his plate before he continued. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about, Mum."

His siblings were now paying rapt attention, as if aware of the huge bombshell he was preparing to drop on their oblivious mother.

"Wasn't it?" She murmured absently, taking a sip from her glass and arching an expectant brow.

"Um, no. You see… I'm moving out. Tomorrow, if you don't mind," He added, hastily, upon seeing her open her mouth in protest. "There's this flat I've got my eye on. Just outside of London, it is. Real nice place."

Mrs. Weasley's face had turned a rather violent shade of pink, which contrasted horribly with her hair. "You'll be doing no such thing," She sounded firm, although Bill was of the opinion that she was about to burst into tears. Today had definitely not been a good day for her, that's for sure.

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A/N**: Was attacked by this little plot bunny not long after becoming completely and utterly obsessed with Bill/Fleur. I swear to God, I've got some kind of problem. Compulsive fanfiction writing… If only there were some sort of miracle drug. Ah, well. In any case, I'd like to thank several fine people over at the illustrious Fiction Alley for helping me refine this idea; special props go to **Emmylou** and **EllietheElephant**. Additional kudos go to my most wonderful friend, **Setaro**, for trying to help me name this sucker, even if I'm the one who came up with the title in the end. 

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all related characters are the exclusive property of J.K. Rowling.

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	2. Chapter 2

Mrs. Weasley had always fancied herself a reasonable parent. Sure, she was somewhat demanding of her children… but what good parent wasn't? She just wanted what was best for her babies, and she was sure that one day they'd come to appreciate that sentiment.

But Bill, that horrid child of hers, clearly did not value her efforts to maintain a loving and warm environment. Told her he wanted to move out, he did. Tomorrow, even. She fumed. What was that boy thinking? He hadn't even been home an entire month after his much-anticipated return, and he already wanted to leave!

Okay… If she must admit it, she was not nearly as mad as she was disappointed. She'd been greatly looking forward to having him around again, and she was just a little hurt that he hadn't wanted to stick around long enough for her to really enjoy his company. After all, ordinarily she only ever saw him but once or twice a year.

She tried to reason with herself that she'd still be able to see her eldest son a lot more often nowprobably as often as she likedbut she wasn't very cheered up by this.

She just couldn't bear to imagine him coming home from work every night, all tuckered out and with nothing to eat for dinner but the occasional leftovers or un-nourishing instant foodstuffs. He might have been a grown man, but he still needed to eat healthy!

Quite suddenly, she was struck by an idea. An idea which would not solve her problem with the issue, but would serve to lessen many of her concerns. But, her idea was something of an expensive one. She would have to clear it with Arthur before she would be able to set everything into motion, but she had the feeling that he would go along with it readily enough, even if he did not completely approve.

She glanced at the clock, deciding after a moment of careful deliberation that Arthur must have gone upstairs. As it was extremely likely he was up in Percy's old roomwhich had since been converted into a simple officeworking on some paperwork for the Ministry, she wasted no time in heading up there.

The first thing that she noticed upon entering the room was that her husband had his head stuck into the fire. Folding her arms across her chest, she closed the door behind her and leaned heavily against the doorframe, waiting quietly for Arthur to finish his conversation.

When he had, she pushed herself forward and towards his desk, which she leaned over as she stared down into his weary face. "Arthur?"

"Yes, Molly?" He forced back a yawn as he attempted to rub a spot of soot from his nose, though his actions only served to further smudge it.

Mrs. Weasley sighed, licking her thumb and wiping it off for him. "I want to talk to you," She informed him. "About Bill."

He winced, knowing what a touchy subject it would be with her. "Yes?" He encouraged her nonetheless. When she'd finished explaining her idea, he leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin in thought. "I don't know, Molly," He frowned, tugging at his bottom lip. "Somehow I don't think Bill will appreciate your concern."

Now Molly was the one frowning. Fifteen minutes later, however, she emerged victorious. Smiling widely, she contented herself with going back downstairs and doing a little needlework. She found knitting to be very relaxing. Getting a head start on everyone's yearly sweater would be the perfect thing to take her mind off of recent events. Should she retire to bed just as she was, she'd be up half the night tossing and turning.

Eventually, she began to nod off. The third time she found herself jolting awake on account of some random noise, she carefully placed the fruit of her labors inside a small wicker basket and trudged upstairs to get some proper sleep.

She awoke bright and early the next morning, and wasted no time in getting cleaned up and going down to prepare the morning meal. Moving was rather tiresome, and her Bill would need all the energy he could get. She was just getting started on separating a slab of bacon and neatly placing the resulting strips in a sizzling pan when Bill poked his head in.

"Need a hand?" He cautiously inquired.

Her lips pursed at the sight of him; despite overcoming her initial misgivings, she was still a bit upset by his decision. She kept her opinion to herself, however, and sent a pointed look at the large pitcher of orange juice to her right. Bill took the hint and strode the rest of the way into the kitchen, heading straight for the cabinet where his mother kept the tall glasses. Fetching seven of them, he set about filling each of them and depositing them beside each place at the table.

Breakfast was surprisingly uneventful, as everyone filtered in and ate at their own leisure. The twins practically crammed their food down their throats, barely appearing to take the time to chew before hurrying off again. Whether or not they were still wary of their mother or if they were genuinely busy with their experimenting was subject to debate. Ginny and Bill finished around the same time. Ginny stuck around to help their mother clean up while Bill went to take a shower and get ready to pack. Ron took the longest, simply because of his large appetite, and Bill had no idea where he'd gotten off to afterwards.

It was with a bittersweet smile on his face that he entered his room, towel wrapped precariously around his waist, water still dripping off the ends of his hair. After getting dressed in his most comfortable pair of clothes and running a comb through his unruly mane, he plopped down in the middle of his floor and began sorting his belongings into two piles: stuff that he would take with him to his new flat and stuff he would toss away.

Completing this task took up a greater portion of the morning, and by the time he was ready to actually start moving things, it was time for lunch. If only he hadn't been so hungry, he might have risked his mother's temper and skipped out on it,.

As he wolfed down his meal, he ran through a list of things that would have to be done that day. For one thing, he needed to pop down into Diagon Alley and pick up the keys to the place. As he'd only made the official purchase the evening before, after the debacle at dinner, he would be expected to fill out a massive stack of paperwork.

Then there was the matter of unpacking as much as he could and making the place livable. He would have simply spent another night at the Burrow if he hadn't thought doing so might give his mother strange ideas. Who knows what kind of crazy scheme she might cook up in order to keep him there.

Sighing, he cleared his place and disapperated with a loud, thundering crack.

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A/N**: This was just a transitional chapter, so I apologize if you find it a little dull. I found it particularly difficult to write the latter half, thus why such a simple update took so long. Speaking of updates, I went back through the first chapter and corrected a few minor errors as well as stuck in an extra paragraph on par with a suggestion made by **EllietheElephant**. Thank you all very much for your reviews; I appreciate them greatly. As for those of you wondering when Fleur will make her first appearance, let it be known that she will dominate the next chapter, much like Molly has the previous two. 

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